


The Games We Play

by IamJohnLocked4life



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Flash Fic, Prompt Fic, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamJohnLocked4life/pseuds/IamJohnLocked4life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 15 minutes at the 221B Con Flash Fic Workshop (Sunday, All-Ages) based on these randomly distributed index cards: John, Sherlock, Playstation, Mycroft’s Car</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

“Ugh, can we just. Not.”

Mycroft leveled a look at him, the firm set of his mouth his only response.

Sherlock crossed his arms in defiance, and met his brother’s piercing gaze with The Look. The one that made Lestrade give in to his demands, Sally avert her eyes, and Anderson crumble. Mycroft, of course, was an impenetrable wall. Not for the first time, Sherlock wished he had John’s gun in hand. Mycroft  _definitely_  had it coming.

Sherlock huffed out a breath that was absolutely not petulant. No. He would not let his brother get the better of him. He was above this. He could hold his own. He would not break.

Mycroft waited. Patiently. Smugly. Condescendingly.

The bastard.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and glared at the skull. The skull grinned back.

With the tip of his umbrella, Mycroft gingerly pressed the console power button and cleared his throat.

John let out a resigned sigh and got to his feet.

“Come on Sherlock, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to trouncing you.”

“You mean the sooner I can finish wiping the floor with your sorry excuse for gameplay,” he retorted, lips still tightly drawn, though the hint of a smile danced in his eyes.

“You and what army?” John grinned back, and Sherlock could feel his resolve melting away.

“Fine,” he drawled in a tone that was decidedly  _not_  childish, infusing that single syllable with as much disdain as he could muster. He flung his coat on and strode out the door without a glance back, determined not to give Mycroft the satisfaction of eye contact, but he could feel the victorious gleam boring into the back of his head. Insufferable prat.

“Hurry up, John,” he called up the stairs, hastening to the sleek black car waiting at the kerb. Momentarily out of range from his brother’s laser-beam focus, Sherlock let his mouth twitch up at the corner. Once this pathetic kidnapping charade was over, the game was on.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr ~ [iamjohnlocked4life](http://iamjohnlocked4life.tumblr.com/) ~ Please say hi, I love to chat!


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